


At A Fey's Mercy

by Charlylimph



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Femdom, Master/Pet, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Predator/Prey, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:08:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29543547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlylimph/pseuds/Charlylimph
Summary: Bratty vampire boy is bored after hundreds of years of whoring and substance use. Abusing the thralls just doesn't have the same thrill as it used to. A kindly (sarcasm) fey makes things interesting for him again.
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

“I’m boooored!” And well Nicoli had a right to be. He had been undead for four hundred and seventy eight years. Time moves both faster and slower the longer he has experienced it. Slower because each day was the same as the last; faster because these damn mortals kept inventing things. In the last twenty years, something called the ‘electric light’ had gained popularity. As if burning things to light the space you inhabited had not worked perfectly well since the dawn of time.

“Would M’Lord like me to send someone to entertain him?” The unflappable manservant offered. Was this Frederick? No Frederick was last century. This one might be Frederick’s grandson.Nicoli had not kept track of who his more boring servants were in quite some time.

“No. I am not in the mood.” There was a drug-filled orgy with his thralls last night. I could read a novel, the mortals were writing some interesting things on occasion, he thought. But no, Nicoli was not in the mood for that either. He mulled the idea of one diversion after another in his mind, mentally picking them up and tossing them aside, before finally making a decision. 

“Fetch my coat and cane.” 

“Of course, m’Lord,” Answered the dutiful Not Frederick. 

Once suitably presentable, Nicoli left the doorstep of his stately manner and traversed his meandering drive and side roads until he found himself along the highstreet. It was early enough in the night that even respectable mortals still roamed freely, going about their trivial mortal affairs. 

It was always interesting to watch the creatures in their natural habitat. Everything was always so important to them. Everything, even the most trivial matters, was of paramount concern. I suppose when you are forced to fit your entire existence into just a few decades; who fucks who; what babies are born; how your idiot cousin lost two months wages at gambling, all seems terribly important and immediate.

The cane clicked along rhythmically with Nicoli’s tread on the cobblestones as he followed a meandering path through the night market. A flick of movement caught this eye, and his gaze was drawn towards the slim figure of a woman using the hand language that had become more widely used and adopted. Apparently, there was a fever some fifty or a hundred years ago that had a nasty habit of stilling the tongue, so such a language was made all the more necessary and popular. Humans were such resourceful creatures. 

Nicoli watched in fascination, though he was careful not to be so careless as to be spotted. This beautiful creature had slim fingers that darted through her words as she bartered for various items for her household. 

True, she was slim, but not in the manner of some, the ones that looked like they would shatter if you brushed them the wrong way. Like the predator he was, Nicoli continued to follow this young woman, clad in the soft yet insistent blue of a winter sky. Perhaps tonight might hold an amusing diversion after all.

The woman completed her purchases of baked goods and cloth, and, with a jaunty wave to some acquaintances, turned her back on the market, presumably to leave for home. Nicoli continued to follow, but because he was lazy and did not want to go to the trouble of stalking his newfound plaything in human form, he used the darkness between two streets to shift and fly.

It was so much easier to track prey wearing the shape of a bat, after all. He would not put himself to any great exertion. It did not occur to him that the absence of any great exertion was one of the reasons for his earlier lamented boredom. 

With her basket over one arm, she walked, but did not turn down any of the expected side streets. So she must live in one of the hovels just outside the walls. Although that made no sense; she was dressed too prettily for that. The fabric of her dress was too fine, the cut too well formed to her shape to belong to any of those residences.

As she passed the gate, he continued to wonder. Then, she walked further still, past all of the expected hovels past the few outlying farms.e expected her to stop at the last farm house now; there were no other habitations past that, only the forest. The edge was cheery enough in the daytime, but now, with only a quarter moon, he knew it would feel brooding and oppressive to a mortal like her. Mortals tended to avoid forests like these unless they were in packs. The underbrush was too thick to move easily, and the trees might blot out the sun, even on a sunny day.

Yet she continued. 

Nicoli lost sight of this enigma only briefly as he flitted through the canopy, but easily followed the soft rustle of her skirt. Summer had just begun. What a lovely time of year for a hunt.

He noticed with interest that she did not even flinch when a wolf hollowed a greeting to its family. Others answered and joined whatever hunt they played at. 

After they had gone some distance in the gloom, a wonder of wonders took him by surprise.He heard her breathe in, then let out a tone so clear and lovely that, if Nicoli had had a beating heart, he was sure it would have burst at the sound of this creature. 

“Over the hills and far away,”

She could speak, so why did she not do so before? 

“My love will return one day.”

Her song was one of aching loss. A pining that he felt deep inside himself as he listened to her spin this tale. For the first time in a great many years, he remembered his first love from when he was a newborn undead. He had foolishly loved a mortal. Even more foolishly, he had given her the choice to join him or not in immortality. 

He had so wished that she had wanted him enough to leave earthly concerns behind.

She had chosen the feeling of being alive over him.

She had chosen life and then, eventually, death.

“Over the hills and far away, she prays he will return one day.”

Nicoli’s focus is forced back to this stunning creature as she as she repeats the chorus. Her accent, though clear and easy, was odd. He could not place it. She was mortal; he knew, he could smell it on her, but she posed so many questions. 

The woman continued her slow steady pace down this path that looked less and less like a road. er eyes were bright with the unshed tears that the song brought to her face. She sang for a lost love, gone forever, and sorrow for an eternal companion. Nicoli began to worry that if he wanted to keep her, he must take her soon, so as to still have time to make the return journey. As much as he wished to follow her to her destination, he feared that would not be possible.

She was beautiful and he would have her. He had made up his mind long before now, he realized.

So he flew down and alighted on the forest floor, behind the next large tree she would pass, and waited for his prize. Just as she passed him, and her song was nearing its close,he spoke.

“Gentle maiden, are you not afraid of the forest?” 

Her shock strangled the last few notes of the song in her throat, and she stared at him with wide open eyes, a deer caught at the tip of a hunters arrow.

I could get lost in those eyes for a very long time. His thoughts drifted just a bit as she continued to stare, unmoving, like the delicious prey he knew she was. 

“You needn’t be afraid of me. I will show you many wonderful things, and you will keep me from boredom for quite some time, I think.” 

She backed away from him, stumbling into the broad trunk of a tree. This was not unexpected, so he pursued her, murmuring compliments. 

He knew the iridescent flash of his eyes as he stepped forward hinted at his nature. When he grasped her neck in his left palm, she started with an almost musical gasp. Oh, this creature was a jewel, lovely in every respect. He would have her. He would keep her like a song bird in a gilded cage that was befitting of her perfection.

He bent his head down to the exposed portion of her throat and felt that throbbing pump of blood through veins under his tongue. Her shivering terror was so delicious, but in time, she would learn the pleasure that one like him could give to a mortal. It was interesting that she wore a thin gold band around her neck,previously hidden by the high collar of her dress.

He tasted her life and heard that glorious musical gasp again, but was soon lost to the viscous taste of her and the beauty with which she trembled beneath him. It must be the mystery of her that made her life taste like a spring morning, alive and growing. She tasted like the concept of life itself. Her moan was musical in his ear, and her breath shuddered as she sang in one long slow scared breath.

“She will be so angry with me.” 

He broke away, startled out of his rapture. She was not scared of him. She was scared of someone else, of some unknown woman. The maiden stood still frozen in fear, and although she looked at him, it was as if he was only a proxy for the real object of her terror.

Just as his knees crumpled and he fell a breeze whiffling through his mind.

"Rest now my prince of darkness, for you will get your heart's desire: novelty."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song the woman sings can be found here. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ec729nmajwc&ab_channel=PattyGurdy
> 
> This chapter and the next were very kindly betaed by itsjustliah.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicoli gets exactly what he wanted. Something interesting finally happens in his life. Perhaps he should have been more specific.

He woke with a long low groan. The moss on his bare side felt springy and comfortable. 

Wait.

Nicoli rubbed sleepy eyes to look down and confirm what he already knew. He was completely naked. Except his shoes. Someone had even taken his socks and then put his shoes back on him, weirdly that felt like the most violating part. 

Looking up he took further stock of his surroundings, it was just after moonrise, even though he last remembered it being much later. His mind refused to comprehend what that implied about the rest of his situation.

It was just after moonrise in a little mossy forest glen. A stream bubbled along conversationally to his left. He listened and heard the expected sounds of animals going around the business of living and dying in the forest around him.

Just as he stood to better get a feel for his surroundings he heard a twang and the accompanying whistle of a bolt through the air. He dodged with the supernatural quickness of one of his kind and reflexively shifted to a bat to make good his escape.

He fell flat on his face, arms flailing stupidly with his aborted attempt to fly. He tried again, more careful this time. Gripping that spot with his mind was like gripping at water with an open hand. He knew it was there and how to do it but the ability escaped him.

Then he caught sight of the arrow. Fletcher with holly leaves. 

He ran. 

The spikes of holly would not kill him, but the pain would be unbearable. If they knew about his weakness to holly they certainly knew of ways to actually kill him.

In the quarter second that he had floundered then stood still after the arrow hit, there had been footsteps in the moss. Nicoli tried to analyze the memory while vaulting over tree trunks and streams, trying to follow whatever meger deer paths he could find.

It had been a sort of soft paddling stride, but something about it seemed to sound too large to make such a sound.

Nicolis thoughts were cut short by an arrow impacting a tree where he had been a moment before, also fletcher in holly. New fear gripped him and he ran. 

He ran through valley streams, over good terrain and bad. As the chase continued, he wondered if he had lost his unknown pursuer. He stopped for just a moment to listen.

Having hearing more powerful than any mortal was almost a curse right now. Even the scurrying of tiny rodents in the underbrush sounded like a threat at first. But he must keep going. He needed a plan.

Escape. 

Navigate. 

Shelter.

He had to get away, he had to figure out where the hells he was, and he had to find a safe place to wait out the day.

The thought of being trapped in the sunlight filled him with terror, and he ran through the next stream instead of jumping over it. Nicoli's foot slipped on the slime covering the stream bed where he had so unwisely stepped. As he ran, the bleeding knee healed itself, although this was of little comfort. 

There was a clearing near the top of the next ridge. Maybe he could get his bearings there. Standing still in the clearing, he looked out and saw nothing familiar. The expanse of timber stretched out below him. The forest was to the east of the city, so he should try to head west. 

Nicoli glanced at the stars to determine his bearing, then, in the pause of his movement and thought, he heard the galloping of something graceful and impossibly large.

He ran.

For the first time in centuries his mind knew true terror. His swiftness was less graceful now. He stumbled over a root for the first time. His breath was ragged in panic, not exertion.

Then he heard something worse. Galloping paws on either side of him, keeping pace with him. This was not a race he could win; he was being hunted for sport. The sounds on either side closed in and tightened the noose around him, squeezing against the panicked fire of his mind.

He could hear that horribly large creature behind him again. The mistakes in his stride were many now as he fought his own mounting terror to stay alive.

Then, a strong breeze chased him down from the direction of the beast.n that breeze there was the scent of garlic. He nearly retched in terror as he stumbled, falling to his knees as he crossed yet another clearing.

Just as he was about to dive down another deer path into the underbrush once more, there was a thunk of metal into wood.

He was trapped. 

First he strained against the metal holding his throat captive, but the metal was coated in an oil that burned his skin. Next he tried frantically pulling on the shaft of the weapon that was connected to the metal collar. It was made of holly and also burned his hands. 

The minor scraps and scratches he had acquired healed themselves, but that brought him no comfort at all. He struggled frantically, iridescent eyes wide in terror. He curled up against the tree on his knees and quivered with trepidation.

He was now facing his tormentor as the beast he had heard so often in the last few hours emerged from under the darkened canopy. It was a wolf. But not like any he had ever seen or heard of. The first of the oddities was that it was ten feet tall, but for all its heights and bulk, it had long gracefully legs that transitioned from the brown of its body to a midnight black on its limbs.

Then Nicoli saw the rider and froze in his shock. She was a queen, for no one else could look so regal. Her hair was midnight black with hints of darkest evergreen. Entwined into the braids and curls were the purple and white spheres of flowering garlic.

She took a moment to pet the large muzzle of her beast and praise it for a well run hunt before slowly striding towards him. Her dress seemed to be made of flower petals, woven and interwoven, so that a master tailor might weep to behold her. After each bare footstep, the grass in that spot bloomed anew with tiny white beads of color.

As she walked, the wolves that had chased him for sport emerged into moonlight as well.

He could have no more moved than he could fly as she approached him. He gulped and tried not to touch any of the metal that still held him captive. 

With one finger she lightly stroked down the shaft of her weapon, then crouched to lay a clawed hand appraisingly along his ribs. He shivered away from her touch.

"Prince of Darkness, do you know who I am?"

"A Fey?" He knew perfectly well that she was. Her angular beauty was too perfect to be human, and she didn't smell human. Not bad, but definitely not human.

She rolled her eyes and dug her claws into his sides. "If you were any more perceptive, I shudder to think what else you might notice." She mocked his pained whimpers and smiled wide, displayed pointed teeth.

"I am the Fey for this forest. Do you know why you belong to me now, Pet?"

He stared at her, too scared and in pain to answer or move. She broke contact and leaned leisurely against the weapon that still bound his throat.

"Because, Pet, you ate something that belongs to me. True, it's not what many would consider food, but you certainly did. And since you partook of my hospitality, you belong to me." With that astonishing speech out of the way, she twirled a long slim finger and a vine matched her motions emerged from the soil. Growing up out the ground the vine binds his hands together after another twirl of her fingers.

With a casual dart of her fingers, she snared a firefly, glowing green in the moonlight, and ate it. Then, with a mighty tug, she wrenched the weapon from the tree and Nicoli's neck. Holding the weapon and vine leash in one hand, she reached out to the tree with a warm smile and healed the wounds she had inflicted on it.

"There you go, old friend. Thank you for the help."

Then Nicoli, who was still too stunned by this change in his fortunes to react, was led by the wrists back to the tall wolf, or was it a fox? The vine continued to grow to her desired length as she walked.

As she made to leave the clearing, this great lady turned to the wolves that had helped her hunt him "For a job well done, my fine friends." A doe bounded into the clearing then, seeming very surprised to find itself there. As they walked, Nicoli could hear the creature being torn to shreds.

His hands and his neck still burned from the holly. He could not even imagine what might be about to happen as his captor led him away. She still held the other end of his lead as he walked next to the creature.

He tried to recall everything he knew about fey so he could start trying to get out of this mess. But his mind was too cluttered. He was still feeling the effects of the panic and shock as he walked sedately next to his captor and her steed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I come up with this entire idea just to use a completely real weapon call a "Mancatcher" in a writing project? Yes, yes I did.
> 
> Also incase you don't already know what a maned wolf looks like her you go. They are such fey looking creatures!  
> https://wildkratts.fandom.com/wiki/Maned_Wolf


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming after a long day is always so nice :D

As Nicoli was led along it became easier to think, he found a place deep in his mind to retreat to and contemplate. 

I need to get her to renounce her claim. Maybe if I prove myself to much trouble to bother with? Too risky. There is no reason why she wouldn't just kill me. That woman obviously belonged to her. Maybe that will be an angle I can use. 

The terrain they walked through never seemed to change; the glimpses he caught of the skyline through the trees was different each time he managed to see through the canopy. Rolling hills and valleys like what she had chased him through gave way before each other though the elevation that they walked never seemed to change. 

As they crested the rise of another ridge in the far off distance, he could see a lone low mountain with a great tree at its base. The magnificent trunk of this impossibly grand structure must have been a dozen times as wide as any of its fellows and three times as tall.

He looked up to see the moon was low in the sky now; it would be dawn soon. Should I say something? Surely she hasn't gone to all this trouble just for me to die by the sun. Maybe she just thinks that it will merely cause me excruciating pain like the holly. Just as Nicoli made up his mind to say something, he looked up and found himself at the base of the tree that he had seen from afar mere moments ago.

He felt stupid as he blinked in suprise. Of course a fey would ignore things like time and distance.

She dismounted her beast, and, after fondly caressing his muzzle and ears, bade him find his own amusements. The giant wolf fox growled something, and the fey gave out a laugh that sounded like the baying of hounds.

“Very well my friend, you shall find them.” Then, still holding the vine leash, she led Nicoli towards the base of the trunk. A wide chasm opened up. The earth seemed to yawn wide before them, and Nicoli had the sense of being swallowed whole. 

He landed gracless thump, but before he could stand, the sky, with its sun so close, was hidden from sight. The roots and earth entombed him comfortingly. He was yanked along the dim passage by the vine binding his wrists before he could recover. This well-kept passage was supported by intertwined roots that seemed to grow even as he looked at them. As he was dragged along the passage, he felt himself cross the threshold of her home. Apparently being dragged by a captor counts as invitation enough. Interesting, but not at all useful. 

What little light that existed was provided by bioluminescent bits of moss and tiny insects that glowed with ever-changing hues. These bits of ever changing light drifted serenely and followed the air currents.

Soon enough, he found himself in some sort of large chamber. Most prominent in the space was a large nest made of springy-looking moss and coiling roots. Curled up and sleeping in that nest was the woman he had seen before, dressed in a gown of white cotton that did nothing to detract from the ethereal nature of the scene. Her beauty still took his breath away, even in this odd lighting. She looked so small and vulnerable, it made him hungry, even though that was what got him into this mess in the first place. Nicoli noted with interest that what little furniture did exist seemed to be proportioned to the woman's size, not the much more imposing fey.

The fey tossed the vine to the ground next to the nest which took root along its length. 

With a shrugging motion of her entire being, the fey seemed to give all pretense of being human. It was a creature made of bark, moss, and entwining roots that slithered over each other. Even still, there was a head like thing that its voice emanated from, a sound as delicate as the memory of the first blooms of spring. Finger-like roots combed through the dark lovely hair of the woman who lay there still in blissful slumber.

The woman stirs and wakes, dreamily looking up at this otherworldly horror with a slight smile, humming pleasantly. Then softly she sings, “How may I serve my mistress today?” 

Her voice trails off with the last note of the question still hanging in the air. The vines, roots, and trunk that are the fey move with a fluidity eerily inconsistent with bark and solid wood, as the fey slithers into the nest to encircle the woman and hold her. If the embrace was human, it would be tender, but now she is wrapped in solid unyielding lumber. 

The vines and roots continue weaving through the woman's hair in a way that she seems to find pleasing for a few moments longer, before the voice made of soft breezes through flower petals says, “I want you to sing for me, Songbird. Sing until I sleep.”

The woman nods, and gathers breath into herself; again,that clear tone that had entranced Nicoli before is brought forth. She was glorious to behold. He wondered briefly about how long a mortal had to be imprisoned by a fey before they became as used to one, like this woman so clearly was. He was also a bit irritated that she had not looked at him after an initial glance. He was not used to being ignored by mortals in close quarters. Granted, he was not used to any of this. 

“O the summer time has come  
And the trees are sweetly bloomin'”

The woman closed her eyes gently, then settled into the song and the binding embrace of the fey. Nicoli stood transfixed and staring as she sang the beautiful song. He wondered how much her captor had changed her form from what nature had first made.

“I will build my love a bower  
By yon cool crystal fountain”

As the woman sang, the gentle undulating breath-like movements of the fey slowly stilled, until they were perceptible only to his extremely keen sight. What had the woman called her? Songbird, how very fitting. She continued singing that same song long after the fey seemed to be asleep. Eventually, the song slowly tapered off on the last notes of the last chorus.

“All around the bloomin' heather  
Will ye go, lassie, go?”

As the note died, she opened her eyes and stared. Her eyes were the dark of good rich dirt which has never before seen the light of day. She did not fear, even as she lay cradled and bound, one hand lightly stroking one of the many limb-like roots. Nicoli stared back and wondered what thoughts were going through her mind, wondered what the fey would do with him, wondered about her. Motes of blue and green floated near her eyes, and her gaze continued even as it reflected those odd colors.

After a moment, he stared down at his bound hands; they were still wrapped tightly in vines, of course. Just to test them, he pulled against the vines, to no avail. He would have to gnaw through the binds like an animal, a thought his pride detested and rejected immediately. He tugged on the leash and the roots holding him to the floor. After he gave up he thought about how that would also be a fool's endeavor. He looked at his hands, still burned from the holly. Now that he thought about it, the oil on the metal was also probably holly somehow. Burns that were magical in nature obviously healed differently. 

Suddenly, he was reminded that the sun must be well above the treetops by now, and all of the exhausting things this day had entailed. There was a gentle rustle of cloth, as the woman curled up with her back to him, in the binding hold of the fey. As she found a more comfortable spot, a thick bed of moss seemed to grow under her, and she slept once more.

Nicoli looked down at the bare patch of dirt that was his lot and sighed. He sat down, leaning his back against the smooth branches and moss of the nest. There was a rather sharp pebble under his bare ass, and he shifted his ass until the patch of packed earth in this fey’s den didn’t jab at him with sharp pebbles. Then he let his eyes lose focus as the multicolored lights drifted around the room, following the gentle whims of the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> The song that is sung in this chapter https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dJCIaCrjjyI&ab_channel=KatieD .
> 
> And my saintly beta reader was itsjustliah.


End file.
